“Someone said to me once that adultery encompasses all the seven deadly sins,” he said.
I licked my lips and pressed back a little farther onto his cock, my breasts swaying in the late-afternoon light. “Tell me,” I said.
He closed his eyes. “It starts with Avarice, of course,” he said. “Coveting someone else's wife. And then Envy. You want her so badly that you think her husband's a fool. That's how you can convince yourself he doesn't deserve her.”
I began to rock back and forth, the long muscles of my thighs working, his hands on my breasts.
“Go on,” I said.
“Lust is next,” he said. “Lust all through it. Oh Jesus. There's nothing sexier than adultery. You can't think of anything else, just her body, her hands, her cunt. Oh, faster, please...” I moved faster, my eyes on his face.
“Pride,” he said, panting, beginning to thrust into me. “You're sneakily proud of getting away with it, think you're the — oh Christ, oh do that again — the cleverest man on earth. And then Sloth sets in, the inertia of the whole thing, and you don't know how to get out of it, even if you wanted to. So you call up Anger as a last resort. Oh. Oh God, oh God.”
And then he was off and gone, that indrawn look on his clean-cut face, holding my hips and coming and coming.
Afterward, I looked at him closely as he dressed. “That's only six,” I said. “What's the last one?”
“Gluttony,” he said. “I never did see how that one fit in.”
I thought about that until after he had left.
Next time we met, I was going to teach him to eat pussy if I had to tie him to the bed to do it.